Inside Harry, everything turned upside down. Just a second ago, he was happily greeting three Tournament participants and already looking forward to cheering for Cedric, but everything changed. He was afraid to believe his own ears, hoping he had misheard and Dumbledore had not called his name. Looking across the table, he saw Jeanne's extremely puzzled face. He knew from experience that wiping the expression of extreme self-satisfaction off her face was not easy. What scared Harry the most was the sudden silence and the slight buzzing of the students, sensing something fishy. The whole hall was staring at them intently. Someone stood up, wanting to get a better look at Harry and Jeanne. Even the Gryffindors were looking at them, mouths open wide.
Professor McGonagall quickly stood up from the table, bypassing Ludovic Bagman, and whispered something hotly to Dumbledore. The school director frowned.
"It wasn't me who put my name in the Goblet," Harry said, bewildered. "You know it wasn't me."
Ron and Harry responded with equally bewildered looks. Jeanne shook her head in puzzlement.
Professor Dumbledore straightened up behind the professor's table and nodded at Professor McGonagall.
"Harry Potter and Jeanne d'Ark," he said. "Please come forward."
"Go on," Hermione nudged Harry.
Jeanne followed behind him. The path to the professor's table had never seemed so long to Harry. It could only be compared to the road to the gallows, and like a condemned man, he walked, accompanied by many gazes. Jeanne followed him.
"You, Harry, go through that door," the director said without a smile. "And you, Jeanne."
Everyone looked at Harry and Jeanne with confusion, not understanding how this could happen. Even Hagrid did not wink or say a word.
In the room behind the coveted door were Krum, Fleur, and Cedric. They looked at Harry and Jeanne with puzzlement.
"What's going on?" Fleur asked. "Do we need to go back to the hall?"
Harry wanted to answer her, and different response options came to mind. He still didn't believe what had happened, and until the last moment, he hoped it was just a dream. He couldn't guess what Jeanne was thinking, but her face expressed even more confusion than any of the students or teachers. It seemed she was about to declare the whole thing a farce and announce she wouldn't participate.
In Harry's mind, Dumbledore's words echoed again:
"By putting your name in the Goblet, you enter into a magical contract that cannot be broken. So think carefully, do you really want to participate in the Tournament?"
Harry was terrified, he had no idea what awaited him and what trials the Tournament participants would face. He had only just finished his fourth year, and he would have to compete with students who would graduate next year. Terrifying and complex thoughts were about to explode in Harry's head. Every second, he expected Dumbledore or someone else to come and announce, "The Goblet made a mistake, and all the contenders need to put their names in again."
Ludovic Bagman entered the room and announced, "Incredible! An extraordinary incident! Ladies and gentlemen... Allow me to introduce, paradoxical as it may sound, two more Tournament participants!"
Fleur didn't believe Bagman's words. A minute later, the door behind them opened again, and the directors of all three schools entered with the Hogwarts teachers. Snape, McGonagall, Dumbledore, Madame Maxime, Karkaroff, and even Mr. Crouch came with them. They argued among themselves about how such an incident could have happened. Only Dumbledore reasoned the situation soundly. He calmly approached Harry and Jeanne, looked at them shrewdly from under his half-moon glasses, and quietly asked, "Harry, Jeanne. Did you put your names in the Goblet?"
"No," they desperately shook their heads in response.
As expected, they were not believed. The directors of the other schools accused Harry and Jeanne of everything, and then turned their suspicions towards Dumbledore himself, refusing to believe any assurances that it was impossible to deceive the Goblet.
"I hope you realize that this time, not one, but two names were chosen from the Goblet," Dumbledore pointedly noted. "The Goblet only accepts one name on a piece of paper, not two."
"We declare a boycott of this Tournament due to your manipulation!" Karkaroff exclaimed indignantly.
"Empty threat, Karkaroff," a voice hissed at the door. "You can withdraw your champion. As Dumbledore said, the champions are bound by a magical contract. Whether they like it or not, they have to participate in the Tournament. Do you disagree?"
Moody started explaining the motives of the possible culprit.
"Only a powerful Confundus charm could make the Goblet forget that three schools are participating in the competition!" Moody exclaimed, but then he cut himself off. "But I can't even imagine how two names could end up on one piece of paper... I don't think whoever wrote this note had motives to drag not only Potter but also a little-known girl from France into trouble. Does she even have parents? I've never seen her receive a single letter or even a newspaper at breakfast!"
There was disappointment or bewilderment in Moody's voice.
"Considering that Beauxbatons is participating in the Tournament, and a French girl is listed alongside Harry, this seems like a sabotage by the Beauxbatons!" Karkaroff protested. "I demand to add another student from my school!"
"But that would just equalize Hogwarts with Beauxbatons," Dumbledore said thoughtfully.
"That doesn't sound too inspiring," Madame Maxime said doubtfully.
"We don't know how this could have happened," Dumbledore addressed the others. "But there is no other way. The Goblet chose Cedric, Jeanne, and Harry. And they have no choice..."
"But Dumbledore..."
"Dear Madame Maxime, do you know of any other solution? I would be happy to hear it."
But no suggestions were made.
2
Even Cedric refused to believe Harry and Jeanne that they did not enter their names into the Goblet of Fire. Even Jeanne looked at Harry with a hint of suspicion as they walked to the Gryffindor Tower.
"Harry, are you absolutely sure you didn't do this?" she asked.
"And you?" he replied.
"If I wanted attention, I would go about it differently. Did you hear what others were saying about the Tournament? Champions die in it. How many people do you think conspire to do something like that?"
3
Gryffindor welcomed their champions with excitement. Fellow housemates were ready to carry Harry and Jeanne on their shoulders, completely ignoring their serious faces and lack of enthusiasm.
When Harry finally reached the dormitory, he found Ron alone. Ron was incredibly hurt by Harry, thinking that he had conspired with Jeanne and betrayed him for the sake of that conspiracy. It never crossed Harry's mind to tell his friend that he had not entered his name into the Goblet of Fire out of friendship.
4
That same night, there was a knock on the door of the director's office. Filch, accompanied by Jeanne, stood at the threshold. Her amber eyes carefully studied the director, who was discussing something with Professor Snape.
"Filch?" Dumbledore exclaimed in surprise. "What has our Tournament champion done to require you to bring her directly to me?"
"Professor," Filch addressed the director, "it seems your student has her own thoughts about what happened this evening."
"Yes, Jeanne?" Dumbledore inquired. "Is there something you want to tell me?"
"Yes. I want to say that Harry and I did not agree to put our names in the Goblet. I have read a lot about the upcoming Tournament and I know the dangers its trials bring."
"Is that why you decided to jump off the departing train now that you realize you will also have to participate in the Tournament?" Snape interjected.
"No."
"No? Well, I think so," Snape turned to Dumbledore. "Director, allow me to probe her thoughts!"
"Only if she does not object," Dumbledore responded.
"You want to know what's going on in my head?" she smirked. "And you won't regret it? Read, if you want, my mind is open to you!"
Snape pointed his wand at Jeanne. For a moment, she tensed with an uneasy premonition. In that second, she saw herself standing in a fire, clutching a little cross made of several bound sticks to her chest. She screamed in pain. At that moment, all she had left was the hungry flames, meant to take her life. Soon, there was no life left, only charred remains at the center of the fire. From those ashes, she was destined to rise and ignite the flames of the fires again. Gilles de Rais commanded her to rise from the grave, and now the new Joan of Arc, the one the unfair court wanted to see, put on her armor. Her banner changed from yellow to black, her speeches rallied others for a different war against those who betrayed her. She marched under a new banner, unstoppable, like the embodiment of fate itself. No compromises – she forgot what they were and delivered her judgment on French soil. A thousand dead, ten thousand, a million, two million... There was never enough for her; she always hungered for revenge. A nineteen-year-old girl in black armor with white hair and amber eyes stood in the middle of a burning village, beheading her enemies with her sword. She bathed in the spilled blood of her foes, and the sound of her melodious, booming laughter echoed eerily around.
Snape lowered his wand. His face seemed empty, but he did not lose his composure and knew exactly what he wanted to say. After scrutinizing Jeanne, he turned to Dumbledore.
"Professor, I believe this girl is not as simple as she may appear to us."
"What did you see, Severus?" Dumbledore asked.
"She didn't approach the Goblet of Fire."
"I know. What else did you see, Severus?"
"Fragments of memories from a distant past, remembered only by the ghosts of this castle. If I interpreted them correctly, terrible evil is given to aid good, but it desires to perform noble deeds. And although the Dark Lord would be quite pleased to have such an ally, I see she is not on his side. I witnessed a power that even You-Know-Who underestimated, if he knew anything about it at all. But if such power is on our side, should we assume that the Dark Lord himself could obtain someone like her to aid him?"
Dumbledore pondered for a moment, then replied, "That is a useful assumption, Severus." He then turned to Jeanne. "Tell me, Jeanne, would you like to tell us anything else?"
Jeanne thoughtfully lowered her eyes to the floor. Raising her head, she looked at Dumbledore. He was looking at her with an unwavering gaze through his half-moon glasses, and he smiled. Involuntarily, she smiled in response.